Long live Life or Descanse en Paz
by M.M.Richter-XIII
Summary: The life of the Grim Reaper is death. A Marluxia One-shot. Rated T for heavy themes and theology. Please R&R.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts._

_**A/N: **_**This is just a quick OOC one-shot about Marluxia. I wanted to write something about him, and came up with this on the spot. The latter part is also a pseudo-love letter to my favorite OXIII member overall. The title is inspired by the title of Coldplay's latest album, 'Viva la Vida or Death and All his friends'; 'Descanse en Paz' means 'Rest in Peace' in Spanish (I think; feel free to correct me if I'm mistaken). I hope you enjoy it. **

Long live Life or Descanse en Paz

The life of the Grim Reaper is death…

And that was Marluxia's whole existence. In the beginning, he happily belonged to a high choir of angels, but then … man fell, and, though he committed no crime, he was sentenced to be the deliverer of their punishment; a being created to be a messenger of joy and good news was now a harbinger of heartache and mourning. Marluxia eventually lost track of how long he'd been the shepherd of lost souls; time is irrelevant when it comes to immortal beings such as himself. The only constant, however, over the endless string of decades, centuries, and millennia was the torment he felt every time he had to summon the human-sized, glowing-white, ethereal Rose, a representation of the dying person's spirit, to burst upward from the person's heart. The same torment stabbed him firmly in the heart when he grasped the grass-green shaft of his scythe, and threshed the flower's stem with the rose-pink blade of the reaping tool, releasing the spirit from its mortal coil and severing the soul's tie to the mortal world. Death Angel or not, Marluxia was still an angel nonetheless, meaning he had an inherent affinity to life in all its forms, making his assignment that much more difficult to bear.

In truth, half of him held a certain disdain for humans, the reason for his anguish, many of whom blindly beckoned him through their self-destructive vices only to be oddly surprised when he arrived to fulfill his duty. Marluxia, however, found that this disdain was not only reciprocated, but it was also perpetuated throughout generations. Many times, he would come across some grisly depictions of himself as just a skeleton in a long black robe, which wasn't what he looked like at all. He did see how one could mistake his cloak for a robe, but it was more of a long black trench coat with a hood that hid his face; in fact, he'd never really removed his hood in front anyone to reveal his face. More substantially, people only saw him as he was reaping their spirits, and others could only sense his presence during times of his movement. Because it is an understandably traumatic event to die or watch someone die, people quickly grew a genuine fear for him, and gave him the ghastly title of the 'Grim Reaper'. While he despised the name, he couldn't fault them for it especially considering his gut-wrenching, heartbreaking work at Pompeii and his most well-known act as the last plague of Egypt.

Superficially and deep down, however, Marluxia actually liked humans, if for no other reason, because they never ceased to amaze him. While some were stagnant, a lot of them were incredibly efficient and able to get things done quickly. Then, when a group of them banded together with the same mindset, plan, and goal, when a group truly became a unit, they always succeeded. One of the most striking things to Marluxia was also their ability to produce very moving and beautiful things that they called 'art', a lot of which even an angel would appreciate. What really amazed him above all else was what a lot of them would do to avoid him, which was a very fortunate event when they were successful.

Nevertheless, burdened and grieved, feared and loathed, Marluxia drifted on aimlessly amongst humans, only being seen in one or more's waning moment, solemnly and lonely carrying out the sentence dealt to him, but then on one particular call …

The night was uncharacteristically dark and extremely damp as a massive thunderstorm and shower had just passed through the area. Suddenly, the night seemed to go a shade darker and the cool air seemed to drop twenty degrees in temperature as Marluxia appeared in a burst of petals in a sparse woodland … or at least what was left of it. Jagged stumps were the only things left rooted in the ground, the tops viciously charred black, the rest of them nowhere to be seen, and all of them still smoking from being put out by the rain. The remainder of the area was a drenched, barren emptiness with almost nothing to it, but this look obviously was the result of something that happened recently. Marluxia viewed the devastation with a weary eye, grown all too use to it after an eternity of witnessing such disheartening places. As he glided through the area, his feet not touching the dead leaf-matted earth, the lingering drizzle splashing lightly against the top of his hood and his long coat, he noticed the still-bound souls of a unexpectedly large group of men, all on the brink of their passing. It was time for Marluxia to reap once again…

Though it was just a few moments in time, the process of releasing all the men's spirits was very tedious, and, for Marluxia, painful, his heart wrenching every time he threshed another life-rose. It wasn't very often that he knew what the cause of someone's death was unless it was some mass tragedy which he normally found out about later, but something about this scene was piecing together in Marluxia's mind. Every single one of the men's bodies were charred and twitching from an apparent electrical strike; that would have explained the wasted woodland, but something was off. In all his time as the Death Angel, he'd never seen an electrical outburst strong enough to level an entire woodland and wipe out a large fleet of men since someone opened the Ark of the Covenant. Another thing Marluxia noticed was that all of them men had black petals on their life-roses, meaning they were near-death for wicked reasons. But definitely not surprising was the show of terror on each of their faces as he approached and as he released their souls.

Eventually, after threshing every last man in the field, Marluxia still felt one more life beckoning him, and that's when he noticed the root cause of this ruin. Seemingly in the middle of the area was a large crater with no stumps, no dead leaves, nothing near in it; Marluxia quickly recognized the dropping life at the crater's sunken center. He quickly disappeared and reappeared in the basin's bottom only to be stunned at the sight of the person there. Lying almost motionless on the ground was a gorgeous young woman with blond hair that had two backward-arching locks, static jumping between them like a pair of antennae, and a ravishing face only slightly defiled by two red streams of thick liquid slowly flowing from the corners of her mouth, slightly smudging her tender-looking lips. Marluxia, staggered by the very sight of this angelic-looking maiden, just stood in front of her, admiring her perfect features and simultaneously incredibly dreading the reason he had been drawn to her. Suddenly, her eyelids slowly flickered open to reveal two of the most-lucid, captivating emerald-green eyes Marluxia had ever seen in all his years, and instantly he dreaded her looking upon him; he definitely didn't want to see her afraid. The young woman looked around her slowly until they landed on the tall figure, his shrouded face, the long, black coat hanging on his body, and the scythe loosely held in his hand.

"So, you're here to take me away," the young woman asked, letting out her choked, labored yet still mesmerizing voice.

Much to Marluxia's surprise, there wasn't the least bit of fear or terror in her eyes or voice. He didn't even sense any kind of contempt or shock. She had almost immediately picked up on who he was and what his purpose for being there was. It was as if she had made peace with his arrival long before his actual appearance. Then, he noticed the look in her eyes; she seemed relieved, almost … _happy _to see him. Marluxia's heart screamed in torture and utter agony at what he had to do next.

"Well, go ahead. I'm ready for it," she said next, managing a most blissful small smile as she said it.

With his chest heaving and his heart dropping like a megalith within his body, Marluxia reluctantly summoned her life-rose, the ethereal flower sprouting divinely from her chest and sitting straight up in front of Marluxia. Its pristine white petals, shining brilliantly in the gloomily dark surrounding, tore a hole through Marluxia. He had to know why he had to thresh _her_ of all people.

"Who are you," Marluxia inquired.

Surprised by this question and the very thought that 'Death himself' was talking to her, The young woman only mustered, "Excuse me?"

Marluxia, his face still shrouded behind his hood despite having giant, gleaming rose right in front of him, gently, eagerly replied, "Who are you? What happened to you?"

"My name's Larxene," she said, not seeming to find the conversation odd.

Larxene then proceeded to tell Marluxia the story of her life. She told him about how her family and her town feared and hated her because of her uncanny ability to control electricity, that they saw her as a monster, a demon. She explained that they tried futilely to 'cleanse' her, and, after a while, they simply tried to take her life. She had managed to hold them back every time while maintaining control, but they continued to escalate in their attempts. The area's devastated state was a result of their latest attempt to end her. A large group of the townspeople pursued and drove her to flee into the woods, but they eventually cornered her. Then, the massive thunderstorm started. She kept control until she was struck with a lightning bolt, which, in combination with the massive torrent of rain, caused her body to overload, resulting in the gigantic electrical discharge that swept the area and ravaged her own health. Larxene expressed her regret over losing control; it was never her intent to fully injure anyone. She then lamented that her own parents even wanted her gone.

"But it's okay now," Larxene concluded, "I've known this day would come for a long time now; I'm ready for it, so you don't have to hesitate."

Marluxia was silent, still absorbing everything Larxene had relayed to him. He couldn't believe this was happening. Her story was epically tragic, and, based on the purity of her life-rose, it was all true. Marluxia warred with himself over what he needed to do and what he knew was right. After several moments, he made a definite decision.

"I can't do this," Marluxia said softly to himself as he planted his scythe into the ground, causing a gasp of surprise to escape Larxene's body.

Sure he was the Death Angel, but Marluxia was still an angel. He gracefully glided and lowered himself to his knees by Larxene's side, causing to her follow him with her eyes in confusion. Then, there was a furious flutter of snow-white feathers as two majestic wings burst from Marluxia's back like a released parachute, much to Larxene's amazement and awe. With one swift motion, Marluxia then removed his hood to reveal his divine visage, long thorns of rose-pink hair, and charismatic face.

"_Wow. Who knew Death was so … handsome_," Larxene thought to herself as she stared into Marluxia's warm, ocean-blue eyes.

"Just relax; I'll take care of you" Marluxia said, assuring Larxene that everything would be alright.

As an angel, Marluxia had access to limited amount of miracles, and he was about to use one. He connected his hands to form a diamond shape with his forefingers and thumbs, and positioned them right over her heart. Tapping into his celestial powers, he then pushed pure heavenly energy into her damaged body, causing her to lurch upward as her life-rose swiftly dropped back down into her heart. In a single moment, Larxene was whole again. Fully healed, Larxene rose to her feet with Marluxia's help, and then stared in awe of him in all his divine glory.

"Thank you … for saving my life … um, Death," Larxene finally managed to say.

Noting the awkwardness not to mention the irony of the statement, Marluxia then offered, "You're welcome, but my real name is Marluxia."

Realizing that, now that she was healed, he would disappear from her sight, Marluxia flashed her one more smile before retracting his wings and putting his hood back on. Plucking up his scythe on the way, he then began to glide away, thinking he was invisible to Larxene now. Then, once out of the crater, Marluxia began to disappear when he heard something he didn't at all expect.

"Marluxia! Marluxia, wait," Larxene called out as she jumped out of the crater.

Still thinking she couldn't see him, Marluxia only glanced back at her briefly before beginning to leave again, but was shocked again when Larxene sprinted right up to him.

"Marluxia, please wait. I want to ask you something," she said sweetly, not even out of breath.

Marluxia had to ask, "You … can still see me?"

Seemingly confused by the question, Larxene replied, "Yes, why wouldn't I?"

Marluxia then soberly replied, "Because I'm still the Death Angel. People can only see me right before they die, and the living could barely sense my presence if that. Please, Larxene, you should forget about me. You won't be able to see me soon enough."

Again, Marluxia began to glide away, but he was suddenly stopped, to his complete surprise, when Larxene grabbed his hand. She could _still touch him_.

"But, please Marluxia. Just listen to me for one minute," Larxene pleaded sincerely.

She definitely had his attention now; Marluxia was going to listen to every word she said.

"Alright. My time belongs to you," he said earnestly.

Larxene then began, "Okay, I know you're an angel, but I can still see you and touch you. I don't know if you do it for everyone, but you actually asked about me. You listened to me; you cared about me. No one has done that for me before. And you saved my life; I know you don't do that for everyone. Anyway, I don't … I don't want to just let you go. So, I guess , what I'm asking is … Can you please take me with you? I don't have anywhere else to turn."

Marluxia just stood in awe of this question. He'd been alone for so long that he almost couldn't fathom having another person around him. But, there she was. Upon everything, she could still see him, hear him, and touch him; that meant that she must be special, special enough to change his outlook on things. On top of that, she was so beautiful, her eyes peering genuinely at him, her exquisite spirit beating in tune with his own. Finally, he removed his hood again to look her right in the eye.

"I would like that," Marluxia subtlety exclaimed with a smile as he gently rubbed the now-dry blood from her face.

The life of the Grim Reaper is death, and it was Marluxia's whole existence …. Until he met the most electrifying young woman one could hope to meet, a young woman even an angel would stand in awe of.

End Chapter

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_**A/N:**_** I hope you enjoyed it. Also, I do apologize for the weak pun at the end. Anyway, please R&R, and, as always, Rant, Rave, and Review.**


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